Night has fallen over the lands of Boreas and it is time for little Haydée to bed down for the evening. She is cold, miserable, miles from her pack and family, and trying her best to be the leader her mother sees in her. A cave offers shelter from the elements and she slinks inside, feeling emotions burn like embers in the back of her throat as she goes.

Homesickness always covers her like a heavy blanket at night and, as she picks a spot on the side of the cave to curl up against, she feels the familiar pull of it. Tears sting her eyes as she buries her head against her side, using a paw to cover the exposed eye so that the world does not see her crying. Soft sobs intermittently break through the silence of the otherwise peaceful cave as she prepares to cry herself to sleep… again.


"Haydée Kedieo"

The evenings always drew him a bit farther out than he's perhaps bargained for. Searching the breezes for other packs, other things to set his sights on. Looking to see who had resources, and who had the numbers to properly defend them. His suspicions about Avalon's numbers of capable fighters had been correct, at least. Information gathering was best done in the dark, or at least the twilight hours, when he could slip from shadow to shadow largely undetected. This evening hadn't turned up much of interest, but Víðarr wasn't too concerned. It's as he turned home that he caught the sound on the breeze. It's curious, far off at first. As he grew closer to the cavern, though, he paused. The viking king could hear a soft sobbing from somewhere within the cavern, something about the sadness of it drawing him in. They are the cries of a child, and his heart ached. "Hello?" His tone is gentle, soft. Víðarr doesn't want to scare anyone, but he does take a few steps into the cavern. "Can I help?" While he isn't always the best at handling tears and emotional situations, he could surely try, right? "Víðarr"

Night always seems to be the worst for Haydée because, underneath the stars, she always remembers just how alone she is. The small girl tries to make herself disappear into the cave’s wall while placing a paw against her mouth in order to try and stifle the sobs that break free from her lips. However, it is always the same, the darkness behind her eyelids play out memories as she attempts to find sleep, hurting more than helping her. In the midst of her sorrow, a voice breaks the air and the small wolf sucks in breath, suddenly fearful that the wolf might not be good natured as he tries to seem.

But Haydée needs companionship, a friendly ear to bend and cry to about the hardships of the world that she now finds herself alone in. So, she slowly uncurls her body from its place pressed against the side of the cave and hiccups out, “I… don’t think you can. I miss my daddy.” The grief of a child weighs heavily in her voice as she lifts her head from the ground, wide emerald green eyes, red and raw from the numerous tears that she has shed. Her heart is breaking in her chest because she knows that she has to be strong, for her pack and family. Yet, every the night that she spends far from her home, the girl finds herself feeling more and more lost.


"Haydée Kedieo"

The viking king rounded the corner, gaze falling on the child. She was small, hunkered down as if to appear even smaller. His gaze softened. She couldn't have been much bigger than Delphi, couldn't have been much older either. Maybe the same age as even Celeste, when the shadow had stumbled across her for the first time. The gods kept handing him little girls, when they seemed to be at their most alone in the world. Víðarr's posture is careful, neutral. Head hanging low, trying not to intimidate the girl. It's hard, given his imposing size. The shadow was doing his best. He's trying. Still, he knows just how large he seems. Víðarr stopped at a distance, not wanting to leave the girl feeling cornered. Making sure that she has enough space to get to an exit, should she feel the need. He sits carefully on his haunches before sliding down to his belly, giving her the benefit of space. Getting on the child's level. All the things he feels like he should do, when it comes to scared, lonely kids. She missed her dad... while Víðarr couldn't relate, he could nearly taste the grief in her voice. "Tell me about him," it's a gentle directive, his accent playing heavily with each word. Yes, Víðarr figures the man she longs for is dead. Dead parents were par for the course in his people, after all. "Víðarr"

As the girl huddles against the wall, shakily telling the stranger that she doesn’t think he can help, the much bigger male slowly approaches. His posture is relaxed, his head hung low in a attempt to be nonthreatening and Haydée immediately loves the man. Everything about this rough, older male speaks to a softer nature as he tries to be gentle and smaller for the small girl and she cannot help with feel a connection with him. When he gently directs her to tell him about her father, the girl gives a small sniffle and allows her eyes to move up to his face, noting the soft creases and warmth that radiates from him.

Without a word, she suddenly unfolds her smaller form and stands, moving boldly up the stranger whose name she doesn’t even know to press herself into his broad chest. Tears wet the dark fur that is underneath her face as she gently curls into him, the need to be held and protected overriding any sense of danger that might have been there. A soft sob fills the air as she closes her eyes and allows the memories of Gavroche to surface while she burrows into the warm chest of the complete stranger.

Small form quakes as the tears continue to slide free and, when her voice finally appears, Every word is strangled with emotion, “He was… small. Smaller than me. But he had the biggest heart of anyone I know. He freely gave what he had to others… and he was the best daddy around.” Haydée feels like a pup again as she speaks and realizes just how much she truly misses her father. They say time heals all wounds but, as the months continue to stack up between her and the event that stole Gav, Hay continues to find the flush of emotions that had bombarded her when she found his mutilated corpse. A loud sob rips free as she buries herself further into the stranger.

Oh, what a sorry sight she is.


"Haydée Kedieo"